Her Royal Masquerade (Her Royal Romance) (15 page)

“I’ll take that under advisement.”

“Spoken like a true prince.” Her smile made his chest burn. “Did you spend a lot of time out here when you were young?”

He took her hand and led her over to the cobblestone path that wound through the flower beds. “I remember walking here often with my mother. She wore a hat with a wide brim to protect her from the hot sun. The scents from all the flowers were so strong they sometimes made me sneeze.” He stopped at a worn bench in the corner and drew her down with him. “I remember playing with my toys here while she dug in the dirt. I thought it was so strange that she was always so clean and put together inside the palace, but she loved to dig out here too, and her face and clothes would be a mess. It made me feel closer to her, I guess. That she liked to play and get dirty too.” He’d never realized that before.

“It must have been hard to grow up with so many restrictions. So many people expecting things of you. Proper things. ”

They still did. “I didn’t know any differently,” he said. “And yet there were many benefits to growing up in a royal family as well.”

“Yeah, I know.” The bitterness in Mia’s voice surprised him. “What do you know?” he asked.

“I told you Birgitte and I grew up together. Our mothers are sisters, so we were together often. But we were not treated the same. Not by anyone.” She cleared her throat. “Birgitte had so much and she was always in the spotlight. I learned at an early age that she was the important one. I was always pushed to the background. I always took second place.” She looked at Vittorio and shrugged. “It’s still the same.”

Vittorio opened his mouth, ready to tell her that she was wrong. Mia should never feel second place to her cousin simply because Birgitte was born royalty. But he closed his mouth and looked away, over the brown, dry flower beds. Hadn’t he implied exactly that by telling Mia he wanted Birgitte? By holding Mia here as a stand-in for the princess? He’d been treating her all along as someone who was not as good as her cousin.

But what good would it do to tell her otherwise? If she knew how he felt, it wouldn’t change the reality of the situation. He didn’t think of her as second to Birgitte any longer, yet he could have no future with Mia. He knew he should send her away now, before they grew even closer. Before it would be even harder to send her away. Before he didn’t want to ever send her away.

Mia dropped his hand and jumped to her feet. “Yes, well. At least I have something to do now until that stubborn cousin of mine replies to my many voice mails and texts. One would think she didn’t want to talk to me. Of course, she’s never been one for doing what she doesn’t want to do.”

“Mia.” Vittorio rose, grabbed her hand before she could walk away. He couldn’t let her go yet. He was selfish enough to want to keep her for as long as he could. Her long hair was pulled back in one of those hated ponytails. He knew it was necessary for her work in the garden. A few wisps had escaped and danced around her face. He brushed a wayward strand out of her eyes. “You are an incredible woman. You should never feel second place to anyone.”

“Thanks,” she croaked and pulled her hands out of his. “You should get back to your important meetings, Your Highness, and leave me to my humble work.”

She turned away but he spun her around and grabbed her shoulders. “This is the Queen’s

Garden. I am honored that you are willing to carry on my mother’s work. It is important.”

Mia’s eyes shone with unshed tears. She swallowed. “Thank you, Your Highness. Now, go. You have a lot to do and I’m looking forward to dinner with you tonight, so don’t be late.”

“One thing first.” He took her by the hand and led her to the small shed in the back corner by the fence. “I used to play in here often.” He opened the door and found the wide brimmed hat hanging from the hook, waiting to be worn again. Vittorio placed his mother’s gardening hat on

Mia’s head. “To protect you from the sun.”

He gently cupped her face and kissed her long and soft before stepping back and walking away. He didn’t give her a backward glance, no matter how tempted he was to do so. He knew he’d never leave the garden if he did.

Vittorio never knew where he’d find Mia during the day. As one week and then another went by, he’d become accustomed to seeing her in the middle of the day. He’d started to look forward to that small break when he could breathe again. When the weight of his duties fell away for a short while.

If Mia wasn’t in the dining room or their suite or his father’s, she was usually in the garden. But after he returned from a meeting with some local businessmen, he wasn’t able to find her in any of the usual places. His stomach clenched. He didn’t worry any more about her leaving, but just this reminder that soon he wouldn’t be able to see her whenever he wanted to set him on edge.

Rico got the information he needed quickly from Tony. “She’s in the music room, Your Highness.” They headed down to the first floor practice room.

Vittorio paused outside the door. “Is that singing?” He held his breath when he recognized Mia’s clear voice singing along with the ensemble. She never ceased to surprise him. Rico caught his eye and smiled. They listened until the song was finished and then Vittorio opened the door.

As soon as he stepped into the room, Mia jumped up from the chair she’d been sitting in, an audience of one. “Why didn’t you tell me you have royal musicians?”

He remembered now how much she had enjoyed the music the night he met her. He’d thought she was Birgitte at the time, but he knew now that the name was the only false thing about her that night. “You heard them play. We danced to their music.”

“Yes, but I didn’t realize they lived here. Practiced here.”

She wore a dress the color of a rich Chianti and her feet were bare, her sandals kicked off underneath her chair. “I’m sorry I didn’t think to bring it up.”

She took his hands, squeezed them lightly. “I wish I’d known. I would have been here listening to them practice every day. They’re wonderful.”

Vittorio looked over her shoulder at the string ensemble that practiced here daily and was ready for any occasion when they would be needed. “Of course, they are. We are proud of the Mezzano Royal String Ensemble. They play for many of the functions at the palace and also travel around the world performing.”

“My father plays the violin,” she said, her eyes bright. “I wish he could have had the chance to play in a group like this.”

Vittorio almost offered to bring him here, then stopped in time. Perhaps once Birgitte was his bride, he could invite the rest of her family here. He changed the subject. “Did I hear you singing along?”

Her cheeks turned a becoming shade of pink. “It was a song I knew. A love song my father played for my mother. I used to sing along with him sometimes. My mother would get happy tears in her eyes and hug us both.” She sniffed and wrapped her arms around him. “I’m sorry. A happy memory.”

“No reason to apologize for happy tears,” Vittorio said.

The musicians began playing softly. He recognized it as a song they had danced to at the ball. He gathered her into his arms and began to sway in time with the music. Mia rested her head on his shoulder and he let the rest of the world slip away.

“I remember this song,” Mia murmured. She raised her head to brush her cheek against his.

“I remember holding you in my arms just like this,” he replied. “We fit, even then.”

She nodded and followed his lead perfectly as they danced to the music, covering the floor with sweeping steps. Feeling more light-hearted than he had in current memory, he twirled Mia out to the center of the floor, drew her back in to press against him, and then dipped her back. Her laughter as she returned to his arms was the most beautiful music he’d ever heard.

“I’d almost forgotten what a good dancer you are,” she told him, swaying in his arms again. “We should do this more often.” Then her bright smile faded as if she remembered, as he did, that they wouldn’t have much time together.

The song ended and they slowly drew apart.

“Sing for me.” Vittorio was surprised that he sounded as if he was begging.

“What do you want me to sing?” she asked.

“I would like to hear the love song with which your father serenaded your mother.”

Her cheeks pinked a little, but she nodded, turned to the musicians with an uneasy shrug. She took his hands and sang to him, words of love and forever after, in tones clear and sweet. He found it hard to breathe, hard to swallow as the emotions welled within him.

This had been a mistake. Instead of heart-warming, it was heart-breaking. Still, if she could continue to sing the words, he would be strong enough to hear them. Hold them close to remember when she was gone.

“Lovely.” He cupped her face and kissed her gently when the song was done. “You are most fortunate to have parents who love each other.” No wonder she was such a caring person. A loving person.

“Very lucky,” she agreed. “If I hadn’t had their love and support, I think taking second place to Birgitte would have been much harder for me.”

“You are a strong woman. You would have survived.”

She shrugged. “I like to think so, but who knows.”

Vittorio dismissed the musicians, sent the guards to wait outside. He kissed her then the way he’d been longing to, drinking her in, trying to absorb her kindness and her affection for everyone around her. Her affection for him. He didn’t want to think it was anything more.

“I didn’t grow up witnessing love between my parents,” Vittorio said, the words out of his mouth before he realized he was saying them out loud. “I knew my parents loved me. Loved my brother and sister, but I grew up thinking that it was normal for a mother and father to treat each other civilly, yet not show any affection. As I grew older I realized it was simply normal for royalty. At least for Mezzano royalty.”

“At least they didn’t hate each other,” Mia said. She drew him over to the chairs set up against the wall. “I have friends who grew up in households where their parents fought all the time. That would be worse.”

“True. But I would not know how to love a wife. Certainly not know how to love a queen. I would not even be able to recognize romantic love.”

Her eyes grew wide, worried. She took his hand and placed it in her lap. “Of course, you would.”

“No,” he said, although he was afraid that he could recognize it. Could feel it right now if he let himself. “And what good would it do if I did?” he went on. “Why did a cruel king centuries back decide that none of his descendants could marry for love?”

She brushed her fingers along the back of his hand, stroking, comforting. “I don’t know.”

“My father thinks it is so the king is not ruled by his heart.”

“And what is wrong with that?”

“A king has the welfare of the entire country on his shoulders. He must rule with his head. He can’t be distracted by matters of the heart.”

“I think a king who rules with his heart would be a kinder, greater ruler,” Mia said, “but then, what do I know of royalty?”

“It is of no matter. It doesn’t change reality.”

“I hope you can grow to love your queen,” she said, her voice wavering. “I would hate for you to never know love.”

He shouldn’t have been surprised to discover Mia was concerned that he wouldn’t find love. But he knew he never would. He’d never expected to. Vittorio knew the closest thing he would ever know was the affection he felt for Mia. He would never call it love, to do so would be too cruel.

Vittorio kissed her hand and rose. “Until dinner.” It was time to push away the concerns of the heart. The country needed a clear head from their future king.

Mia woke abruptly from a dream in which she was stumbling through a freezing blizzard, searching for something. Or someone. She couldn’t see where she was going through the blinding snow. She was freezing and the more she trudged through the snow, the deeper it piled up around her. Tears froze to her face. The wind took her breath away. Soon she was trapped, with no way to get out, and the worries, as heavy as the driven snow, piled higher and higher around her.

Time was running out.

She gasped as she awoke. At first she was afraid she’d awaken Vittorio, but discovered she was alone in the big soft bed. Morning had not come yet. Darkness blanketed the bedroom and she was tempted to stay in the warm cocoon to drive off the dreams of the cold Stagatland winter.

But now that she was awake, the restlessness that had begun to plague her would not let her go. It wasn’t the kind of restlessness that would make her wish to be somewhere else. On the contrary, it was the sense of time ticking away and there was nothing she could do about it.

She pulled on her robe and stepped out of the bedroom. A sliver of light shown beneath the door to Vittorio’s office. Mia opened the door slowly and found Vittorio at his desk, papers spread out in front of him.

He looked up as she entered. “You cannot sleep?”

She shook her head, crossed the room. “I see you can’t either.”

He pushed his chair away from the desk and drew her down onto his lap. She slid her arm around his neck and snuggled against his warm body. Much better than the covers in a lonely bed. “What are you reading?” she asked, glancing over at the documents on the top of the desk.

“It’s just some historical research,” he told her. His arms came around her and cradled her gently.

She rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. “Sounds like heavy reading for the middle of the night.”

He shrugged. “As you said, I couldn’t sleep.”

Did he feel time ticking away as well? She lifted her head and looked at all the books on the shelves behind the desk. “Do you enjoy reading about history?”

“I have my degree in history,” he told her. “I find history fascinating.”

“I realize that I know nothing about what you like to do when you’re not being a prince,” she said.

His hand slid beneath her robe to cup her breast. “You know what I like to do.”

Mia smiled. “Yes, but it was wrong for me not to have asked about what you did before you were a prince.”